


Derrière

by Anonymous



Series: Forbidden Kinks [17]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Coming Untouched, Kinktober 2018, M/M, Not the Healthiest Relationship But It's Consensual This Time I Promise, Rimming, ass worship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-24 10:54:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16173626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: The last few months of Stiles’ senior year of high school go something like this:1. Stiles realized he was bi.2. Stiles realized that a rather large part of that realization was based on Derek’s inability to keep a shirt on.3. Stiles came to the conclusion that Derek’s abs were alright, but that he would gladly kill for that ass of his.





	Derrière

**Author's Note:**

> Kinktober 2018, Day 2  
>  **Ass Worship** | ~~Begging~~ | ~~Medical Play~~ | ~~Watersports~~
> 
> Bet you're surprised I didn't pick that last one.
> 
> Also, this one is very tame for me, but I'm doing my best to get out of the "every story has scat in it" cycle I was stuck in.

The last few months of Stiles’ senior year of high school go something like this:

1\. Stiles realized he was bi.

2\. Stiles realized that a rather large part of that realization was based on Derek’s inability to keep a shirt on.

3\. Stiles came to the conclusion that Derek’s abs were alright, but that he would gladly kill for that ass of his.

Even when he maps it out, though, he’s still not sure how exactly he went from fantasizing about Derek’s ass everyday, and what it might look like under those tight-as-fuck jeans of us, to actually getting to be all up in that ass. This could be blamed on Derek’s hatred of words and emotions of any kind, but really, Stiles deserved some of the blame, too. He wasn’t exactly asking questions when he suddenly got everything he thought he wanted and more.

~~

Derek had asked Stiles to come over and help him organize the books he had uncovered in the Hale vault onto some new shelves he had picked up. If it had been anyone else asking him to do it, Stiles would have told them to call Lydia instead, but time alone with Derek was few and far between since college applications were due soon and he needed to actually focus on his grades again.

So he’d found himself in a stuffy closet of a room barely big enough for the two of him, setting book after dusty book on the shelf. There wasn’t actually much “sorting” going on, mostly because the books were all in languages Stiles didn’t understand but also a little bit because Derek Hale was wearing sweatpants.

He was probably drooling a little, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care about that.

(He didn’t think anyone would blame him, anyways.)

And Derek, for one, seemed to be none the wiser, just bending over again and again to grab more books out from the boxes and handing them to Stiles, practically shaking his ass around in the air, showing it off. 

And Stiles was enjoying it, really, he was, but he also kind of fucking hated it. How was he expected to ignore it, he wasn’t built of superhuman restraint. So, eventually, the kettle had to boil over.

“Could you please stop doing that?”

Derek raised an eyebrow, looking confused.

Stiles huffed in frustration, motioning with his hands to… well, all of Derek, really. “How do you expect me to actually help you with any of this if you keep parading around in front of me. I know you don’t like my crushing on you, and I’m trying not to stare at your ass, I swear I am, but what you’re doing certainly isn’t helping.”

The other eyebrow was raised now. “You… have a crush on me?”

“Dude,” Stiles huffed. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know; every one knows. Hell, Scott told me even he could smell it on me, and you know he’s the worst at scenting emotions. The werewolf nose tricks are wasted on him, let me tell you.”

Derek just hummed in response, seeming to think about that for a little bit. Stiles wanted simultaneously to roll his eyes and flee the scene – though the longer Derek takes to answer him, the higher the need to do the latter becomes.

“You’re eighteen now, right?” Is what Derek finally comes out with. Which, what? Derek knew well enough that Stiles was eighteen; Isaac and Erica had dragged him to Stiles’ party just a few weeks before. Of course, it was possible Derek had just blacked out the whole thing entirely; it seemed like something he did with most social interactions.

So Stiles rolled his eyes as he nodded his answer, wondering where this was going.

But the werewolf merely shrugged, and bent over again to grab another handful of books, like that was all he had to say. On his way down, though, one of his hands hooked into the waistband of his sweatpants, and they slid down to pool around his ankles.

And, well, Stiles couldn’t resist any longer.

He collapsed down behind Derek, just staring at first, before he took a deep breath in. He’d thought about it before, of course, just what Derek’s ass would smell like – sweat, probably, and maybe a little tinge of soap. For as much as he lived in a trash apartment, he still seemed like a pretty clean guy, so no doubt his own hygiene would be at the top of any to-do lists.

It wasn’t really either that he smelled, though; sure there was the tang of sweat, and the general musk of maleness, but for the most part all Stiles could smell was skin. He could have probably spent hours breathing it in and trying to break down all of the different parts of the fragrance, but his mouth is watering now. So he moves closer, and notices his hands are shaking as he brings them up to palm the globes of Derek’s ass.

He could probably cry with how perfect it feels in his hands, but instead, he shows his devotion to them by pressing gentle kisses into the skin. It’s far from smooth; Derek has thick, dark hair all over his back and chest, and his ass is no different. The hairs are clumped together slightly from how warm it must have been in the werewolf’s sweatpants, and Stiles works his lips gently over the larger clumps, straightening them out a bit. He wants to suck the sweat from each individual strand, and he’s hoping he’ll get the chance to do so later, but he’s waited so long for this moment that he kinds himself rushing towards the finish line.

Derek’s crack is deep, and Stiles really has to dig his fingers in to open it up far enough to catch a glimpse of the dark pucker. The hair there is darker, thicker, and ever more matted. He runs his nose along the crack first, dragging it up and down, pushing closer each time as he breathes in deeply. The scent is just as mouth watering here, somehow more primal, reminding Stiles that this isn’t just a normal ass he’s smelling, but the ass of a predator, an alpha. Someone a lot stronger than he is, in any case.

The thought makes him a little bit dizzy. He’s aware that his cock is hard, can feeling it pulsing tightly against the confines of his jeans, but that’s far from his main priority.

When he’s had just about enough of the scent, when he’s sure his lungs are filled with it, he starts kissing again, taking his time. He starts at the top, lingering with his lips touched to the skin just where the crack begins, before moving down slowly, dropping a kiss about every half inch or so. 

His first kiss directly to Derek’s hole makes it quiver, and he can’t help following it up with a longer one. He kisses it over and over again, feeling it pulse underneath his lips, until eventually he’s not even removing his lips from it at all, just pressing them into it a little bit harder.

It feels completely natural when he parts them slightly, darting his tongue out slightly, and he can’t help the loud moan that leaves him as he gets his first taste. It’s earthy, and salty, and nothing like anything he’s ever tasted before; it’s probably the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted.

He goes wild for it, after that, licking over the hole in a feverish manner, digging into it more and more until, a few minutes later, he manages to pierce the strong muscles of the hole.

He nearly blacks out as his orgasm takes over him, and when he comes to, Derek is facing him. His sweatpants are pulled back up, and he has an eyebrow raised and a smirk on his lips. He’s holding a couple of books in his hand, and Stiles takes them, still trying to wrap his mind around what just happened.

They go back to sorting books, and the silence settles over his shoulders like a mountain. He grows more and more uncomfortable as time goes on, his semen causing his jeans to stiffen and chafe against his sensitive skin. He peaks at Derek’s sweatpants a few times, trying to see if the werewolf had been affected at all, but the pants are too loose for him to tell. They’re certainly not damp in the front, though, like Stiles’ own pants.

“I don’t want you to stop crushing on me,” Derek eventually says to break it, and the laugh Stiles lets out sounds more like a moan.

~~

It becomes a thing in the next few months. Between studying and dinners with his dad and meetings with the pack, Derek will just… bend over in front of Stiles and allows him to eat him out. And Stiles loves it. He gets better at it, too, manages to go a lot longer, spending hours and hours smelling and kissing and tasting.

It was all so much better than he could have ever fantasized.

~~

The first time Stiles says “I love you”, it’s while he’s got his face wedged deeply between Derek’s thighs, trying to angle his neck properly to reach his hole. Derek wasn’t helping him at all, reclining on his couch and thumbing through a novel.

The werewolf had stilled, but Stiles had just continued to pepper the hole with light kisses, and so Derek had eventually chuckled and weaved one of his hands through Stiles’ hair, crushing him farther into his ass.

~~

They start taking some time to go on what actually amounts to dates after that; going out to catch a film, grabbing a bite to eat together at a diner. Usually they can’t help themselves and they both end up in the stall of a bathroom or in the back of a car, pants down around Derek’s ankles and Stiles’ tongue buried deep with in him, but hey, at least they try to be normal.

~~

Stiles goes to college with a calendar from Derek, outlining when he would be up to visit him, and he hangs it above his desk. His roommate asks about what the circled dates mean, and all Stiles can manage to tell him is that it would probably be best if he was able to stay away from the room on those days.

~~

For their first year anniversary, Stiles enters his dorm room to find Derek spread out over his Star Wars sheets, roommate nowhere in sight. He dives into Derek’s ass, licking over both globes of flesh first and dropping little kisses to the werewolf’s crack, teasing the hanging nuts a few times before zeroing his tongue in on the true prize.

He spends hours licking and drilling and sucking as Derek jerks himself off over and over again, and can’t bring himself to move even as the werewolf eventually falls asleep, only stopping as exhaustion eventually comes over him as well. He curls up around Derek’s thighs, planting soft kisses to his hole as the veil of night overtakes him.

**Author's Note:**

> Again, no promises that I'll actually manage to finish and post all 31 of these prompts. I will say I'm already done up to day 7, and I have some of the others mapped out, but yea, no promises.


End file.
